Fanon
by Alaskan Olive
Summary: G1: The Decepticons know what you've been writing... and they're not happy...
1. The Virus

**A/N:** This is merely a realistic/spoof-like approach to what the Decepticons would think if they found about our wonderful world of fanfiction. To them, sadly, I don't think they would find it as wonderful as we do. I'm not making fun of specific person/persons in general. I'm making fun of the stories that have sadly become the basic genres of what TF authors write about. Nothing more and nothing less.

Also a special thanks to Taipan Kiryu who provided a second set of eyes. :)

So apologies if I offend anyone, believe me I'm probably gonna, and enjoy. :)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

_**FANON**_

**Chapter 1  
****"The Virus"**

**

* * *

**

The Stunticons were dead—to begin with. There were few that hadn't noticed the severe drop in their personalities over the past Earth week.

They exhibited rare emotions the other Decepticons have never before witnessed. They were weary, distraught… _disturbed _and in Breakdown's case, paranoid to the point Swindle bet he short circuit himself by the end of the next cycle. Even Motormaster was surpassed his own limits. He was furious— furious enough to make the Unmaker beg for mercy if he dared crossed the purple and black semi's path—a path that all the Decepticons were avoiding.

However to the relief of any future unfortunate Decepticon, Motormaster had fled the base on a personal agenda and like the catalyst that had caused their mood swings, his objective was a mystery, but they were certain that they were connected.

Despite the fact the war monger mechs tended to ignore each other's problems, the sudden situation made them all want to know what the dilemma was. If there was something that was making the Stunticons feel the way they were, they wanted to know what it was so they could avoid it.

There was speculation of course; rumors created because of uncertainty.

Scavenger had suspected a coup, but that rumor was shot down when he discovered from Thundercracker and Skywarp that Starscream had been quiet for several cycles (more or less) in regards to scheming Megatron's dethroning. Despite the retort from the Seekers, the theory was still open for pending. Another idea was that they had discovered some sort of Autobot plan involving getting rid of the Stunticons, but somehow seemed abnormal for it to be the case.

They continued with theories, all of them mediocre and unbelievable… until Skywarp and Thundercracker found the real reason from Breakdown and why their moods had been so altered and unfortunately soon found themselves as much as victims as the Stunticons.

And there would be more victims to come…

* * *

High above the range a normal human fighter plane could trespass, the Decepticon Seekers practiced their battle formations; the clouds witnessing their coordination and formatiosn like silent bystanders watching an air show.

Immediately during their ascend into the heavens, Starscream could see something repulsively wrong with his trine members.

They were apprehensive, distant, and unbelievingly uncooperative; as if they did not even want to share the skies with each other. Their sky phalanx needed to be tight, unbreakable, destructive and intimidating. Instead they were a good distance away from each other—much more than what was acceptable.

**((Thundercracker! Skywarp!))** Starscream called over the comm. channel. **((Reform into position now! Close the gaps!))**

There was a pause before Thundercracker's gruff vocals came over the radio. **((Huh? Oh Sorry. Come on 'Warp let's get to it.))**

Skwarp's voice dripped with extreme uncomfortable hesitance. **((Alright… I _guess_.))**

They formed back into proper formation, taking their sides behind Starscream and flying behind his command.

Starscream still was not pleased. He could feel their slagging apprehension to each other polluting the stratosphere all around him. He didn't care what personal issues they had with each other, he just wanted the aerial exercise performed to perfection—especially after the last failed raid. _It was Megatron's faulty planning— not his aerial squad!_

**((Position 43! _NOW!))_** Starscream ordered.

The intended objective was to have Skywarp and Thundercracker maneuver up so that they were stacked one on top of the other like an aerial tower and then nose dive at a specific target. However what Starscream received was a discombobulated mess. Both of them, fighting for the top formation, hit their wing tips and bounced away from each other.

The frustration would only continue to grow for the remander of the practice period— until Starscream finally called it quits.

Skywarp and Thundercracker were happy to oblidge his command.

And Starscream wouldn't rest until he knew why…

* * *

Thundercracker was a rational mech and knew that he couldn't keep avoiding his only ally in the base forever— or elude Starscream who he knew wanted to know the answer to their, and to quote his Air Commander, _'disloyalty and stupidity'_.

Eventually Thundercracker would have to come out of his comfort zone and approach his friend, despite how uncomfortable his presence had suddenly become. It was amazing— and Thundercracker was still baffled by it— how a single thing could of rendered their friendship to be so forbidden.

And he knew that Skywarp felt the same way—he wanted to make contact, but he was afraid to be seen with Thundercracker now that the cause of the Stunticon's downfall was beginning to spread like a virus.

Still… Thundercracker thought that it was time to set the record straight and get down to business.

Skywarp kept his gaze down on his half-empty energon cube and only shifted his optic sensors to notice Thundercracker in his peripherals.

"Hey…" Thundercracker greeted, making the sparkling step.

Skywarp sighed, "Hey…" he replied, barely audible.

Thundercracker let out his own sigh before he reached around and rubbed the palm of his head behind his neck joint. "Look 'Warp I'm tired of this. Can we just forget about it? I know it's embarrassing but at least we weren't targeted as much as the others and Starscream… somewhat."

The thought of ridiculing Starscream with a comment just didn't seem as appealing, so Skywarp offered an indifferent shrug to compensate.

Thundercracker's face dropped; his disposition serious. "We must make sure that Starscream never finds out about..._ it_. Not only would it make him furious, but imagine what kind of existence he will put us through just to help him vent out his anger."

Skywarp finally looked at him, his face gloomy, and gave him an understanding nod. "He's been asking you too? I haven't told him either… figured the same thing as you TC."

Thundercracker nodded, his optics panning around to the other mechs accompanying the Common Room. He noticed that Dead End looked more aggravated than usual as he sat next to Wildrider and Dragstrip, they're expressions malevolent. Thundercracker also noticed the Coneheads seemed as just as high spirits. Ramjet sat, his chin in his hand while he drummed his fingers angrily across the table top. Meanwhile Thrust and Dirge sat across from each other— their chairs faced away from each other and just as annoyed as their white wingmate.

Swindle passed by the Coneheads table with an energon cube in his hand, a somewhat pleased expression on his face. It seemed that Thrust couldn't stand to see someone else in a pleasant state and knocked the cube from his grasp, sending the liquid splattering up like a fountain. Swindle stopped in his tracks, trying to compute what had happened and then turned to give Thrust a malevolent glare. Not in the mood for an altercation, Swindle huffed and turned around—going to get another energon cube; muttering obscene words through gritted dental plates.

Ramjet turned to his wingmate, "Happy?"

Thrust glowered. "No… and don't talk to me slag-face," Thrust's optics drifted over every inch of the room, as if looking for hidden cameras, "They'll probably think I will want to frag you if we talk to each other."

Thundercracker grimaced... it was spreading more and more and there was no telling who it would come and show it's presence to next…

* * *

"Blitzwing stop!" cried the voice of reason as he tried to pry his pistol from him.

"No! Just let me do it Astrotrain!" retorted the furious Triple Changer, struggling against his friend.

"The slag you will- blast your computer!" Astrotrain said, fighting to wrestle the gun that was trained at his computer station… the abomination still plastered on his monitor.

"Your computer's closer!" Blitzwing said, finally able to pry the gun away and give Astrotrain a kick to the midsection, earning the tank enough time to aim and fire. Sparks flew from the monitor, completely destroying it but hardly ridding Blitzwing of the wrath and hatred that was running through every inch of his form.

Astrotrain scowled from the floor, in an instant he sprung up and reengaged his fight with Blitzwing, this time to a verbal extreme. "Fantastic Blitzwing! Do you know how many monitors the Constructicons are repairing as we speak? It'll take Earth Days before they get to fixing mine or receiving a new one from Swindle!"

Blitzwing crossed his arms of his chassis, the expression of a murderer on his face. "Then you can have my fraggin' screen— I won't be using the slagging thing anytime soon!"

"What did you read?" Astrotrain questioned; quirking a metallic brow. "If it's safe for me to ask."

"I'll give you a hint choo- choo," Blitzwing growled. "Warpath…"

Astrotrain's face lit with understanding before twisting into one of disgust and disbelief. He shook his head, "No… did they _really_?"

"Oh yes…" Bltizwing nodded, his visor bright with bloodlust. "Filled with detail and everything of why I would fra-"

"What are you two brusque morons chattering about? You are late for your patrols or are you both too ridiculously stupid to remember?" called a familiar screechy voice. Astrotrain and Blitzwing turned and looked at the Seeker standing in the doorway, his optics fixed on a data-pad but a sardonic smile still present on his face.

Blitzwing and Astrotrain glanced at each other, a sinister smile growing on the shuttle mechs face. Though Blitzwing was new to the phenomenon sweeping through the mail accounts of the other Decepticons, Astrotrain had discovered it a day prior and found himself more than particularly amused—and disgusted— by the content about Starscream.

Astrotrain smirked as he addressed Starscream. "Well... please accept my apologies Starscream. We have been... side-tracked."

Astrotrain received the expected reaction, Starscream looked up with a face of intrigued annoyance. "Oh? With what Astrotrain?"

"The thing is Starscream," Astrotrain continued, his optics glowing more and more. "I can't really explain it to you to make it comprehensible to you. It is something that you have to witness for yourself."

Starscream quirked an metallic brow, "Really?" he questioned, "And why is that?"

"Oh well…" Asrtrotrain let a small chuckle escape, "It's just one of those things you have to, how do the worms say it? '_See to believe'_?"

Starscream narrowed his optics at the deceptive train-mech; suspecting that he wouldn't like whatever it was that Astrotrain was talking about… but too curious to let it slid.

"What is it?" Starscream sternly asked, not in the mood for any more mind games; he was past the preamble.

"Tell you what Starscream, give me an astro-second on your computer and I'll show you," Astrotrain offered.

"Fine. However this better worth my time or I'll personally see that you waste yours on Energon duty," Starscream warned.

"Oh believe me Air Commander… I think you'll find it many things besides worth it," Astrotrain replied, his ever-growing sinister-self reaching its maximum potential.

But it would take more than that to frighten the mighty Starscream and so he let the Triple Changer lead him to his room to play on his computer…

Sealing his fate.

* * *

**A/N**: Yeah, I know I'm the devil...


	2. Fanon is Killing Us

**A/N:**Wow, glad to hear that you all enjoyed it so far and to see that I wasn't crucified yet. This chapter takes more of a crackish turn, but I've tried keeping them in character as well. Hope the mix blends well! :)

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything.

* * *

_**FANON**_

**Chapter 2  
****"Fanon is Killing Us!"**

**

* * *

**

"How can they know? They can't know!"

"But they must— how else could they know my mannerisms. How I look. How I act around the others… **how**?"

"It's simple… they must know me because they constantly watch me, maybe not with hidden cameras like Rumble and Frenzy told me, but watching me on the human news or listening to how the Autobots describe me… are they in cahoots with the Autobots? How can they? How can they write me so… correctly…?"

Breakdown collapsed on his berth, his arm draping over his optics. "This is a nightmare! I mean— I'm not paranoid _all _the time. Sure I get a little anxious whenever I hear my axles squeak or when I detect an oil leak—but it doesn't mean that I'm as scared as a cyber mouse! I'm a Decepticon for the love of Primus! A warrior!" Breakdown scoffed, "Stupid humans. I'm not that paranoid!"

A loud crashing sound shot him up from his berth like a turbo fox during hunting season, his optics scanning and his systems on full alert. "What was that?"

The question was answered when he heard the sound of breaking glass next door— in Dragstrip's quarters. Breakdown flinched slightly when he saw a large square object dent the wall so much they came into Breakdown's side.

A furious roar and the sound of a door sliding open was enough for Breakdown to go investigate what was wrong with his Stunticon brother. Breakdown poked his head out of his quarters to see Dragstrip stomping down the hall towards the elevator, a wrathful look in his optics that could make Motormaster cringe.

"Fraggin' meatbags! Your heads are my mine!" he roared as he stepped into the elevator, a fist slamming down on the button so hard Breakdown thought he broke it until the doors slid and took the angered Stunticon to the Launching Tower.

Dead End emerged from his quarters, the only other Stunticon left in the hall since Motormaster, Wildrider and now Dragstrip had departed on their own vendettas. Dead End approached Dragstrip's quarters, determined to see if it was the same culprit that had driven his comrades insane.

Breakdown followed Dead End into his quarters, hesitant to see what had finally driven Dragstrip over the breaking point.

When Breakdown and Dead End saw the art displayed on the monitor, they understood fully.

"Hmm…" Dead End replied, "I understand his objections perfectly. I feel the same."

Breakdown's horrified gaze fixed on Dead End; his brother had been victimized despite acting strangely calm for feeling the same as Dragstrip. "What they do to you? Who'd they… put you with?"

Dead End let a bitter smirk pull his face behind his face-mask. "I have been paired with Deceptions and Autobots alike, however what upsets me is how passionately these vermin prefer me to be paired with a female and sometimes a mech mech of their own creation. Why they think I would ever degrade myself to be seen with their monstrosity is beyond my comprehension."

Dead End sighed, "However… not as much so as how the humans think that not only are we capable of performing human intercourse but also believe that the same gender can transcend the rules of normal reproduction—if our species was even capable of human reproduction that is."

Breakdown's expression turned to one of complete repulsion. "Are you saying that the humans think we are created like them… that we _breed_ like them?"

"Apparently so," Dead End grimly answered. "And more so. They also have the deluded belief that the same sex can impregnate each other."

Breakdown grimaced even more, a complete look of shock and disgust on his face. He looked back at the art displayed on Dragstrip's monitor… a terribly drawn sketch of him with protruding abdominal plates… a proud Jazz standing by his side.

Breakdown turned back to Dead End, now wishing he didn't understand. "Oh… I haven't gotten that far yet. I was, urm, _fultilled_ with the writing they had done about me. It's like they know me… like all they do is watch me so they can figure out how I behave. It's fraggin' creepy!"

"The word is _fulfilled_, Breakdown," Dead End corrected. "Well, at least the writing that you stumbled upon has your character written correctly. The ones that I have found are most disappointing," Dead End said. "It seems that there is nothing but death upon my mind, that I even go so far as to killing myself in unspeakably boring ways for the sake of ending my misery. Do you think this to be me Breakdown?"

Breakdown pressed his lip components into a thin line; refusing to answer.

"It is either that or they completely miss my character completely," Dead End continued, "They have me using human mannerisms, speaking their moronic exploitives and doing activities that I would never think of. I for one do not see myself playing a game of championship _ping-pong_ with Bumblebee anytime soon."

"Really? They wrote you doing_ that_?"

"Yes indeed. However my situation is not as bad compared to the Seekers," Dead End shrugged. "They seem to have to have the brunt of the human's affections."

"Huh…" Breakdown said. "Is it worse?"

Dead End glanced over at Breakdown, a semi-sympathetic smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "Oh... yes it is. I hear Starscream hasn't found out yet."

Dead End turned to leave, but left a last remark. "But I'm sure the whole base will be informed once he does…"

Dead End couldn't off had more perfect timing, because even _he_ jumped slightly when the sound of the infamous (and petrified) Seeker's cry rang through the floor and down to their audio receptors as if a klaxon horn had blared throughout the base. Dead End grimaced, sighing. They would be hearing a lot of screaming this cycle…

Starscream had 10, 522 reasons too…

* * *

In the Common Room of the Decepticon Headquarters sat the remaining mechs with enough (but dwindling) restraint. Holding back on taking their much needed revenge on the humans that had disrespected them. To them, it wasn't the stories about them in disgusting situations the authors joyously wrote about. It was an issue about appearance and respect.

They obviously didn't fear them enough—it was the only reason they sought to do whatever they wanted; pair them with who they wanted, and break the impossible until reality itself was calling for a do-over. Apparently, their reputations were not proceeding them.

Why?

Were they losing too many battles with the Autobots that the humans thought them nothing more of circus clowns they could throw pies at?

Was it some perverse form of flattery? Did they humans worship them and present it to them with their apparent prose of insanity? There were many who thought so, who had read the stories about the Decepticon interfacing with the humans. While a lot of them were able to shrug it off with a disgusted look, there was one who recently discovered it that couldn't understand why he (and a couple of others) were victimized out of all the rest.

"I just don't understand… why me?" questioned a baffled Thundercracker.

Skywarp, who had just deemed it comfortable enough to be seen in public with his trine-mate, shrugged. "Well… at least the Autobot femmes wanna frag you. Apparently you're paired with every femme in the universe— frag the fleshies even make some for you!"

"Me and Starscream…" corrected Thundercracker in a half-mutter. "But at least the humans don't view me as an abusive rapist."

"Yeah, they view you as soft and a lovey-dubby Decepticon with Autobot feelings…" Skywarp said, unable to hide his snicker when he drank his energon.

"And you're promiscuous," shot Thundercracker growing slightly ill-tempered.

"Ah well…" Skywarp said, downing down the remainder of his cube. "A least they got _something_ right."

"Yeah, Skywarp— you're_ BORING_! BORING!"

Vortex crashed upon their tables, the blue alcoholic energon already taking control of his functions after a quarter of a cube. He straightened up and drank his energon, clearly another victim that had been created over the past cycle, but instead of taking his anger out on his usual punching bags (his personals, Rumble and Frenzy, and the actual punching bag he had hanging in his closet with a picture of Blades taped on), the interrogation mech decieded to torture his own body with libations; taking advantage that Swindle kept Blast Brew in his closet for monetary purposes and Vortex happened to of figured out his safe codes before he had opened the links on his mail account.

He laughed, his balance unstable and his thirst unquenchable. He slurred when he spoke to them, taking the personality of a drunk heckler. "Ya... ya wanna know who they paired me with...? Huh..? Ya wanna know gender fragger?"

His head bobbed to Thundercracker, "You"— his head turned towards Skywarp but went back to Thundecracker again— "and you... SKY-Warp."

His pitched increased, his free hand enclosing into a furious fist. "AND BLADES!"

The remaining Decepticons in the room focused their attention on the inebriated helicopter, the scene was too odd to gaze away from.

"But hey, am I mad? _Nooooo_..." Vortex slurred, lying. "Cause when I look at ya PC"— Vortex pointed to Skywarp again by mistake— "I feel lucky that I'm not YOU and STARSCREAM!"

He laughed maniacally; annoying and loud, "But ya know the funny thing is... I ain't paired with a single female!" Vortex's visor flared with drunken anger. "It's all mechs ALL the time!"

His hands flew up to his shoulders in a confused and dizzy shrug, the contents of his Blast Brew swishing like waves caught in a hurricane. "I don't fraggin' get it!" his expression turned more hostile, a scowl across his face as he used the table for support.

Hook, from his table across the way ran a hand over his face before getting up from his table and walking over to the scene, withdrawing a syringe from subspace. Vortex was the only one that didn't notice.

"I say— BRING ON THE CHICKS!"

_Clink._

The syringe hit the back of Vortex's neck joint, causing the mech to collapse to the ground before he knew what hit him.

"Thank you," Thundercracker groaned, relieved at the sight of an offline Vortex.

"I didn't do it for you," was Hook's reply before stalking off, calling Onslaught to come and retrieve his comrade.

With the memory of the situation becoming slowly forgotten, Skywarp decided to take Vortex's actions into consideration. He could either drink his processor dead, or do what the other Cons had been doing and show the humans what they thought about their writing.

Skywarp stretched his arms over his helm before separating them above and then bringing them by his sides. He still didn't approve of the fleshies other accusations of him and he thought it was time for them to abadon ship. However, Skywarp couldn't bring himself to do it solo, especially when he saw the gloomy look on his trine mate's face.

"Wanna go kill fleshies with me?"

Thundercracker nodded instantly. "Yes I do—let's go" he answered quickly, rising to join his team-mate.

* * *

Not every Transformer in the base felt soul-raped when they saw the amateur prose about the Decepticons. They had a secret, a rather ingenious method of reading for Decepticons of their mental capabilities.

It was called the _'don't like, don't read rule'_.

So they ignored the fics about them that might contain mature gay scenes with them, knowing that if they set optics on it, they would forever be cursed to suffer the ego-shattering consequences. And so, they followed their rule and the two mechs were enjoying the humiliation at the other Decepticon's expenses as if it they would never get the opportunity again.

Frenzy couldn't stop laughing, watching his twin double over in never-ending bliss was enough to never let his own joy let up. It was contagious and they loved every bit of it.

They had hit the jack-pot.

Story after story of Starscream was like an energon goodie after another. They started reading in silence, and then it escalated to them reading it off to each other… laughter ensued.

"Oh primus… these fleshies are… wha' is wrong with them?"

"Wait Rumble, wait, wait, wait! Listen ta this line—Starscream is meetin' his anonymous lova'!" Frenzy said, fanning his hands in an anxious and excited manner. Frenzy's visor fixed back on the text and read the contents out loud. "_He removed his visor passionate. Then Starscream went over and kissed him on the mouth because Starscream really really liked him, no __loooovedhim. 'Starscream!' his lover cries, 'This wrong! Megatron will hurt us both real bads if we are caughtz!' _"

Rumble couldn't control his laughter if he wanted, and it took every restraint in Frenzy's frame to continue. " _'I nows…' Starscream replies. 'but my heart aches for you, how long must we hide this love for each other'…my heart will go on.'_ "

"Oh Primus!" Rumble cried, rolling on the surface of Soundwave's computer desk. "Keep goin' Frenzy! I wanna know who Starscream's anonymous lova' is!"

Frenzy let some chuckles escape before he continued. "Alright where was I…_ 'Starscream and him made love. It was very good until someone came and interrupted them. 'Optimuz Prime! Go away I'm making love!' _"

Rumble nearly rolled off the desk and Frenzy couldn't stop his laugh attack. However he managed to compose himself and read more. "_ 'Optimus Prime raised his big blue finger and points at them and said in a big voice (A/N**: **because he rockz my sockz! Sqee!) Stop making love in this meadow! You're scaring the children. Starscream! Sound…wave…'_

Frenzy's voice trailed off, horrfied. Rumble stopped laughing when he heard his master's name— Starscream's anonymous lover.

Their face plates fell with disgust… it seemed the stories had found a way to outsmart their rule… it had found a way to devastate them more than the authors getting their colors wrong. They had attacked their master— their creator. They had attacked Soundwave with their filthy dribble. It wasn't fun anymore...

The twins understood now and felt the anger the others were feeling course through their systems; engulfing them in uncontrollable rage.

Frenzy slammed his fist down, "No fleshie does tha' ta Soundwave!"

Rumble jumped to his feet, running to his brother's side with his pile drivers already out. "Let's kill!" he cried.

Another set left the base, and there still would be more to come, because the twins had forgotten to do what the other Cons had done when they saw the stories...

Get rid of the evidence.

Moments after their departure, Soundwave entered his quarters, Ravage and Laserbeak accompanying him, and went over to his computer to update a security program he had been working on as a side project for Megatron. However instead of a blank screen he found what his creations had been looking at before they had departed.

Soundwave stared at the content, his expression dead-panned underneath his covered features. Then, as he began to decipher the poor grammar more and more he leaned forward in his chair, his optics squinted behind his visor as he tried to process what he was reading.

When he read the horrific truth about Starscream's anonymous lover his fingers fled to the buttons on his touchscreen keypad— trying to delete the content. However the content protested against his wishes and remained on his screen.

Soundwave's fingers began to increse their speed—the punches rapid— but still no avail. His gaze fixed back and forth from his finger and to the monitor, wondering why it wasn't working.

It seemed to have a mind of it's own, as if it wanted to put the Communication's Officer through this unnatural torture.

Finally Soundwave let the computer win and ceased his efforts The haunting truth finally sinking in...

So, he finally met the culprit to the Decepticons unexplainable mood swings. He had heard about this human web-page, but did not see the logic behind it until now. Now he could understand why the Decepticons had been effected so.

It was a blatant slap in the face. Even though he didn't care, emotions were dangerous to show and he certainly wouldn't allow humans to effect them, but he could see the disrespect behind it. The humans form of flattery was unwelcome and their methods for showing it was an abomination.

It was also disrupting the atmosphere of the base and driving the Decepticons mad. Logic informed him that it needed to be dealt with.

Finally, after a flutter of light from his monitor, the computer finally gave into his command and deleted the page from view. Soundwave's visor fixed on it, ideas going through his processor for what to do. Finally, he leaned forward, his fingers dancing over his keyboard and searched for the source of the website's base of operations.

He would put a stop to it. He would restore order to the base, and the quieter the better. Based on how quiet it seemed neither Starscream nor Megatron had discovered the human literary treasure chest and he needed to destroy it before they did. Chaos was a thing he did not like rampaging through the base and chaos is what the Commanders would bring if they did find it.

A shrill and mortified scream sounded from next door, causing the always stoic blue mech to jump slightly in his chair and cover his sensitve audio receptors from the Seeker's infamously loud cry.

Soundwave rose from his chair, his footsteps drowned out by the Seeker's loud cursing from next door and procedded to the Launching Tower.

Little did Soundwave know that Starscream had actually found the website 2 hours before Soundwave had returned to Headquarters, and that damage was already done.

* * *

**A/N:** Vortex, the fic that Rumble and Frenzy read (which is how I have always read crappy fanfiction as) and a little bit of stretching Soundwave's personality were the noticeable crack liberties I took.

This chapter was inspired by the Family Guy tune_ 'Christmas is Killing Us' _and just an FYI, that this chapter was already half-written when I posted the other one so don't expect the next chapter to be updated at the same speed. ^^;

Hoped you enjoyed it and next chapter we see Starscream and Megatron's reaction and we, the lovely writers, get what has always been coming to us. :D See you next time. :)


End file.
